


Tredicine

by say_lene



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, death book spoilers, only a vague MC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 13:02:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15292092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_lene/pseuds/say_lene
Summary: Thirteen vignettes // a countdown to the plague





	Tredicine

THIRTEEN

_Smile,_ the note says.

When Asra looks up, he finds her watching him from across the square. The sunlight and her shade cloth have her dappled in dancing gold.

When she waves, his smile makes his cheeks hurt.

 

TWELVE

"Laugh." Her lips are tickling his ear. "Or cry. Just react somehow, okay?"

Asra's answering nod is doubtful. He loves the theatre, but _this_ -

An actor topples off the stage and lands right in Asra's lap. They collapse in a tangle of velvet curtain and rope - and her laughter is like music, even when Asra's head is ringing.

"Perfect!"

 

ELEVEN

_Dance with me?_

She's scrawled it on a scrap of parchment, then hidden it in Asra's favourite book. It smells like lavender and incense. It can't be urgent, can it?

He finds her lounging beneath her shade cloth, sipping lemon water from a teacup. Her eyes light up like stars when he offers her his hand.

 

TEN

_Cheer up_ , her pointed look says. _You're embarrassing me._

So Asra feigns a smile when Lucio makes his jokes, and he saves his glowering for another day. Her starlight eyes say thank you, and Asra feels a moment of frustration.

She has to be suffering, too.

 

NINE

"Drink?"

She hoists a bottle of burgundy liquid, and Asra's first instinct is to ask for tea instead. But there's a playful tilt to her smile. She gives the bottle a little shake, and something in Asra's belly _leaps_.

"Sure."

 

EIGHT

"Relax."

Her palm is cool against his brow. She smooths back his hair with a smile, gentle fingers tangling but soft.

"You don't have the plague, darling."

Asra still feels like he's dying, but she sounds awfully convinced.

 

SEVEN

"Sit down," she begs him.

Lemon water sloshes as she offers him the cup. He takes it, but he's trembling. How can a man like that be Count?

She tugs at his elbow, insistent, and Asra sprawls in the shade beside her. She brings the teacup to his lips, and he lets himself be coddled. She murmurs in his ear.

"I love you."

 

SIX

_Breathe_. She's written it in the margins, inlaid with glittering ink. He can hear it in her whisper. He can hear it in the wind.

_Just breathe._

 

FIVE

"Lie down with me," she murmurs, fingers warm on Asra's neck. She rubs at his nape, giggling, as he pulls her into a kiss.

"You're a bad influence on me," he whispers.

"I think it's the other way around."

 

FOUR

"Stop it." She's glaring at him over her teacup, her brow drawn in hard and fragile lines. "You're scaring me."

Asra's scared, too. "We'll come back," he tells her. "Eventually."

When the dying has stopped. When the sunlight returns -

The teacup is rattling.  "I don't want to talk anymore."

 

THREE

_Smile?_

He looks up to find her waving, and the sight almost cracks him in two. He manages the smile, but she can't see it through the smoke.

 

TWO

"Go!" She's crying angry tears, porcelain and water on the floor. "If that's what you want, just go!"

 

ONE

_Please come back._


End file.
